Page 70 of Rescuing Ally: Part 2

“It’s in my research because it’s part of the science. I didn’t do anything.”

I didsomething, but I didn’t do that.

The error isn’t the ghost-pulse. That was buried too deep, masked within harmless phase modulation, encoded to mimic background quantum noise. What’s unraveling the system isn’t my message—it’s the foundation Malfor built it on.

A flaw he introduced by forcing entanglement across incompatible nodes. An error seeded not in sabotage, but in arrogance. He used my published equations without understanding the boundary conditions. My framework included failsafes—counterbalancing variables meant for lab conditions, not brute-force deployment under threat of violence.

He overclocked the calibration protocol. Boosted resonance to force faster integration. Layered his hardware across protocols never designed to overlap. The distortion wasn’t my doing—but it carries my name because the math originated from me.

That’s what Elkin saw. Not a betrayal. A misfire. A consequence of pushing a fragile theory into unstable territory.

The ghost-pulse—my real defiance—remains hidden. Quiet. Untraceable.

But this? This is visible. Malfor thinks it’s rebellion because he’s too blind to see the damage is his own reflection.

He’s going to punish me for breaking what he already broke.

Guards seize my arms, yanking me upright. Malfor extracts the collar remote from his pocket, thumb hovering over the activation button.

“Your resistance grows tiresome.”

Agony explodes through my nervous system as the collar activates. It’s worse than previous punishments, lasting far longer. My body convulses against restraining hands, my vision fracturing then reassembling in broken pieces. When it finally stops, my muscles liquefy. My legs buckle.

“Courtyard.” Malfor tucks away the remote. “Bring the others.”

“No. Please. Just me—only me. I swear I didn’t do this. It’s a fundamental flaw?—”

“Silence!” He leans closer, his voice intimate. “You persist in believing your actions exist in isolation. That your choices affect only you.”

Guards drag me through corridors. Behind us, more guards extract Stitch from her terminal. Dread crushes my lungs, each breath shallower than the last.

Sunlight stabs my eyes as they haul me into the courtyard—the same space where Stitch bled. The metal post stands dead center, dark stains marking where her suffering painted the concrete. Today, a steel table gleams beside it, something cloth-covered resting on its surface.

Guards force the others from their cells—Jenna walking upright, Rebel cradling her splinted arm, Malia stumbling forward, Mia’s face that barely masks terror.

They arrange us before Malfor, who stands between the post and table, hands behind his back, his expression unnaturally serene.

“Your previous lesson proved insufficient.” His voice carries across the courtyard. “Perhaps my teaching methods require greater clarity.”

The guards force me forward until we stand face-to-face. Malfor strikes like a snake, fingers digging into my jaw, wrenching my face upward.

“Quantum calibration sabotage. Subtle approach, I grant you. Progressive damage, difficult to trace.” His thumb traces my lower lip, the touch raising bile. “Cleverer than your friend’s crude beacon.”

“You don’t understand.” Tears fall freely now. My gaze flicks toward Stitch, whose face remains expressionless despiteher injuries. “I didn’t do anything. I’ll accept whatever the punishment is, but it’s not what you think.”

“No.” Malfor shoves me backward. “You fundamentally misunderstand the lesson. This isn’t about punishing you. When children misbehave, sometimes the most effective discipline comes from watching their siblings suffer the consequences of their actions. It creates powerful associative memory. Direct links between action and consequence.”

“No. Please,” I beg, but it’s useless when dealing with a madman.

“Choose.” He turns, eyes reptilian. “One friend will receive the consequence of your sabotage.”

“I can’t.” The words scrape through raw tissue. “I won’t. I didn’t do anything. You have to believe me. It’s a flaw introduced by forcing entanglement across incompatible nodes. It was bound to happen.”

“Silence! I’m tired of your lies.” His smile never touches his eyes. “Choose one of your friends to accept the punishment.”

“I won’t. Take me. Please.”

“Utterly pointless.” He steps closer. “You’ve demonstrated a willingness to suffer for your principles. Admirable but useless to me.”